They
by JadenotherGems
Summary: Set during Balm and Service. The thoughts of Clay, Jax, Tara and the MC when they find out about Gemma's rape. Warning: Could be disturbing. Non-con. Some graphic language.


They

Merriam-Webster dictionary definition: _**They**_-those ones —used as third-person pronoun serving as the plural of, _he_, she, or it or **referring to a group of two or more individuals**...

The word was so innocuous. Benign. It was a pronoun for God's sake. Four letters. It should not have this kind of power. However, it had become as powerful and devastating as any weapon Clay, Jax and even Tara, (who knew kind of what had happened), had encountered.

"_They_ raped me. All three of them. More than once."

_They…_The word, the thought of what happened vibrated inside Jax, coiling his muscles tighter and tighter. Had he been so caught up in his bullshit with Clay that he missed what was going on? He had. There was the strange new bond with Tara. The incident with Clay at Cara-Cara. His mind could go on. Zobel and Weston had tried to use her to break the club, but she wouldn't let it happen. He remembered finding her up on the roof of TM the night after it happened. There was something about the way she leaned into him when he put his arm around her that caught his attention for a minute. But she had said she was fine. Of course, she was. She was Gemma Teller. For all their fighting, he had seen his mother stand tall in the face of things that had broken some of the toughest of the members of the MC. Now she looked ashamed and afraid. Afraid of what he thought of her because of what _they_ did. Jax's muscles could no longer hold the tension. He slammed his hand on the table causing Tara and Gemma to jump.

_They…_The word ripped Clay apart from the inside out for so many reasons. He wasn't there for her. He was a big man. Tough as shit. A total bad ass. He was president of one of the most far-reaching motorcycle clubs around. He had two of the most sadistic enforcers at his beck and call. Yet, they took his beloved Gemma, and…he had to push those images away if was even going to be able to think. Which Clarence Clay Morrow obviously had not been doing now for almost three months. Jesus Christ, who gets that rattled over a car accident? Especially not his wife. She has been stronger any of the men on more than one occasion. No instead he let his fucking male ego get in the way of realizing that there was something more wrong. He had thought so many bad things when his wife slept on the couch. He eyed his brothers with suspicion, wondering who it was she was fucking around on him with. Hell she probably had barely been sleeping. A new pain twisted inside him, wondering how many times she had woken up terrified, alone, reliving what those men did to her.

_They_…the word hit Tara's insides as hard as a fist. It was worse than she thought when Wayne Unser helped the battered matriarch through her door, a shadow of her normal self. Barely able to walk on her own. She knew what had happened when she saw the bruises on Gemma's wrists, her jeans laying on the floor with the broken zipper and blood in them. The exam confirmed everything. She was bloodied and bruised all over her body, including internally. The Queen of SAMCRO was brutalized for hours. Tara knew how long it had been since Gemma had left the house and the time Unser had called. And now Tara knew there were three of _them_, (a derivative of _they_). Tears spilled over her lashes onto her cheeks.

The members of the MC sat around the reaper table. Their relief at Jax's decision not to go Nomad sliding into concern as the young man stared sadly down and his hands, nervously twisting his rings. Clay Morrow, their intimidating leader sat sideways not making eye contact with anyone. He unwove the Matriarch's true story for them. "_They _raped her," he finally managed.

The gasps that followed were the result of the air thickening with noxious poison of **that** word sinking in. _They. _ Their friend, their mother, their Matriarch, their Queen was violated…at the hands of more than one man. It was agreed. Gemma would be avenged. She had to be. Not just because of who she was to them, but because _they_ was no longer a word. It had become a brutal weapon, and _they _needed to be destroyed to heal them all.


End file.
